


all i want for christmas is (a demigod, a super soldier, a man with anger-management issues, a couple master assassins, and phil)

by Utopiste



Series: an anthology of stony being morons [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Avengers, Found Family, Iron Dad, Multi, Pining, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark's ragtag bunch of science kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 05:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17136311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utopiste/pseuds/Utopiste
Summary: Steve sighs. "Tony, last time we celebrated Christmas together, it was 2015, Natasha was still bleeding from her last mission and we ordered a literal mountain of Chinese takeout to eat in front of the TV. And you said Christmas wasa capitalistic, un-rock’n’roll, garbage holiday you had no intention to partake inand Natasha saidsure, Mr. Trumpand you saidhow dare you insult me like this, I’m kicking you out right now.Then you threw spring rolls at her.”Tony shrugs. "Well, things change, Captain, roll in with the punches."aka the Christmas fluff no one asked for but I still provided





	all i want for christmas is (a demigod, a super soldier, a man with anger-management issues, a couple master assassins, and phil)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrsgombember](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsgombember/gifts).



> i just really love christmas kay
> 
> anyway. spending christmas with your found family is avengers and lgbtqa+ culture so. good luck to everyone out here who's having a hard times and merry holidays to the others 
> 
> part one of many gift fics for gabi because she is an excellent friend and a topnotch human being and deserves it, happy holidays dork

“Attention, Avengers! And Loki. I have a statement to make,” Tony bellows, entirely clad in his Iron Man costume except for his face.

Steve looks up at him lazily from where he is sitting on an armrest trying to make himself as small as possible for Sam to sit, which is ridiculous when he is made of about six feet of abs and triceps and deltoids and other weird muscles.

In the other armchair, Bruce and Thor are ostensibly Not Cuddling, because they are, of course, Not Dating, Valkyrie, sitting by their side with a suspicious-smelling Thermos, stares in adoration at Natasha, who is splayed on the couch sharpening a knife in a vaguely threatening way for no real reason.

At her side, feet kicked up on her thighs, Clint is reading a trashy gossip magazine and obviously doesn’t have his hearing aids on. In splashy red letters, the journalist, who probably went to Harvard for this, speculates about _DAD BOD OR HOT MESS: IRON MAN’S LOSE BOOZE DAY TAKING THEIR TOLLS?_ on top of a blurry picture of Tony getting out of the suit. When Rhodey came into the room and saw it, he cracked up laughing and pulled out his phone to take a picture to send Pepper, Carol, his mother and the entirety of his contacts.

On the other side of Clint, Pietro is talking in hushed tones to Wanda, a conversation filled with foreign words and dramatic hand gestures. Vision is doing this weird thing where he closes his eyes and floats and might be taking a nap or just reviewing a very interesting book on Goodreads.com. Loki is stuck by their side looking bored and playing with a StarkPhone with disinterest because, as Thor said, he needed to socialize with people his age.

(“Wait, isn’t he like a hundred years old?” Steve had asked.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” Thor had said.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“He’s a thousand and fifty-three years old. What do you think he is, a toddler? _Pffft_.”

Steve had started to frown and open his mouth in incomprehension,  but behind Thor’s shoulder, Bruce had very silently yet very energetically shook his head and mouthed _no._ The subject had not been addressed again. From what Steve understood, he was sort of the Asgardian equivalent of a high schooler who ran around town using the jewelry he stole from his mother to buy a fake ID to get into the local gay bar. Except their version involved a lot more stabbing.)

None of them takes notice of Tony’s announcement, except T’Challa, standing up rigidly on the giant TV screen.

“Yes, this is in fact what we expected when you summoned an official Avengers meeting,” T’Challa says.

“At four in the fucking morning,” Bucky Barnes mutters, face flickering on the screen by his side.

“What, is it four in the morning in Wakanda? Oh no, silly me, I _must_ have forgotten,” Tony says. Barnes narrows his eyes at him. “Anyway, if I could have everyone’s attention? Romanoff, please tell Clint I literally made these hearing aids and he is being an ungrateful brat.”

Natasha sighs, puts down the knife, and pushes Clint off the couch.

He flails for a second. “Not cool, Tasha!” he yelps. She shrugs him off. He pouts and says, “Pietro, avenge me!”

Pietro looks at him directly in the eyes as he high fives Natasha.

 _“Anyway,”_ Tony says. “Guys, if you don’t mind, there is this little thing called an emergency going on.”

“There’s always an emergency going on,” Clint mutters, having just gotten his hearing aids back.

“Yes, alright, the world sucks, we live on a garbage planet ready to explode any moment and our president is an orange toupeed buffoon, we know that, Clint but this is more important. In fact, I would even go as far as saying this is the most important emergency any of us has ever faced.”

Thor stops staring at Bruce with moony eyes and asks, “Is it Thanos? Did the contingency plan we put in place to welcome him fail us?”

“What? No!” Tony says.

“Do we have another hidden sibling Father forgot to tell us about?” Loki inquires, sounding bored.

“Loki’s evil again?” Clint contributes, earning himself nasty glances from both Odinsson brothers.

“Hydra?” Bucky asks.

“Red Skrull somehow got out of this weird purple planet thing?” Steve asks.

“A white American did something stupid that will get tons of people killed?” T’Challa sighs.

“I second that one, actually,” Wanda says.

“It is indeed,” Vision says, “statistically much likelier that a white American male is once again the cause of our troubles.”

“You’re all wrong and also morons,” Tony says. “Well, actually, I guess it is all about a white American. God, we really are the worst, aren’t we? _I didn’t ask for your confirmation,”_ he adds when Rhodey, Natasha, the Maximoffs, T’Challa, Sam and Steve start nodding. “No, this is much more important than all of that garbage.”

He pauses again to let a dramatic silence stand. Of course, considering he is standing on a box in the middle of their living room, the effect is significantly ruined.

“What,” Valkyrie cuts.

“I have just been informed,” Tony says, “that Christmas is in four days, and we need to organize a party from scratch. Pepper, who is the light of my life and by far the stronger Avenger out of any of us, just so you know, is on holidays, so I can’t call her. Well, actually, I _tried_ to call her, but she just laughed for five minutes and then hung up on me. Being on a cruise has made her very rude if you ask me.”

All of the Avengers stare at him for the longest of time before they all collectively get up and start leaving. Tony’s protests are ignored. Strange is disconnected from the conference call as he tells Stark to never call him ever again. T’Challa, who is a scholar and a gentleman, waits until Bucky is done cursing the Stark lineage in Russian, Romanian, German, and about twenty other languages to follow suit.

“I dunno about these other guys but I’m in,” Peter Quill says.

“I literally do not know who you are,” Tony says. “How did you even get that number?”

“See you in four days!”

“No no no I didn’t mean- he hung up on me too, didn’t he. That’s just great.”

***

The first one Tony goes to is Steve, not, he tells himself, because of any lingering feelings he might have, or might have had, or might have had considered having at some point, or might be getting back in the near future, but because most of the others listen to him. If he can get Steve on his side, the only ones left to convince will be T’Challa and Strange.

FRIDAY informs him Steve is in his room, ever the lifesaver, and Tony does not check his reflection in the elevator’s mirror as he goes up.

“You look great, boss,” FRIDAY tells him.

“What? I wasn’t looking.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Your heart rate was rising, so I thought-”

“No it was not.”

FRIDAY pauses before she says, hiding her laughter, “Sure, boss,” and it is so unfair that all of his AI end up developing the capacity to heckle him.

“Remind me to program you to have fifty percent less heckling.”

“Reminder set, boss. Do you also want a hairdressing appointment?”

“What- I- no!”

“Alright! You’re the boss, boss,” she sing-songs.

The doors open without a warning and Steve is sitting right in front of him. He looks up from his tablet, startled, his face impossibly soft for someone whose traits seem carved in marble.

“Hi Tony.”

Even his voice is gorgeous. Living with your ex-boyfriend/colleague/manager is _hell_.

“Captain Rogers. I am just coming to readdress the issue I raised previously in the latest Avengers official meeting. I thought it was one worth raising and-”

“You know when I told you I hoped we could be professional around each other this wasn’t what I meant, right?”

Tony pauses. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Steve sighs, ducking his head to hide a half-smile so familiar it makes Tony’s heart ache. “Look, Tony, we have never ever celebrated Christmas in the compound. I mean, in the tower either. Since 2012.”

“I know.”

“Last time we were all in here at the same time - must have been, what? 2014?”

“2015.”

“Right. Natasha was still bleeding from her last mission and Clint was staying to make sure she didn’t start working out and reopening her wounds. We ordered a literal mountain of Chinese takeout we ate in front of the TV - not a Christmas movie, because you forbade those and said Christmas was a _capitalistic, un-rock’n’roll, garbage holiday_ you had no intention to partake in and Natasha said _sure, Mr. Trump_ and you said _how dare you insult me like this, what are you still doing in my building, I’m kicking you out right now._  Then you threw spring rolls at her.”

“You have a very good memory,” Tony points out.

“Thanks,” Steve says, his smile ever so blinding. “So why now, Tony?”

“Team-building?”

“Try again.”

“Sudden epiphany?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, what do I need to tell you?”

“What about the truth?” Steve offers. He is still wearing that ridiculous smile, and Tony doesn’t want to tell him. He _doesn’t_.

He’s totally going to tell him.

“The kid - Peter - Spider-Man - he asked me to come to his apartment for Christmas. So I asked him about it, as any good concerned mentor would, and you know what he told me? Every Christmas since his uncle died, it’s just him and his aunt, all alone in this tiny place they own, because there’s no one in their family left.” Tony clears his throat and looks away from Steve’s big trusting blue eyes.

“Oh,” the other man just says.

This is how he gets people. He stares at them all soft and big-hearted with his crystalline eyes and blonde strands that fall in front of them and he makes them want to be good like him, confess everything. Well, not today. Tony speaks up again. “So, yes, I told him there was a party at the compound and they were all invited, of course, because in case you haven’t noticed, I have no brain to mouth filter. Absolutely fucking none. So here we are, I’m putting together a Christmas party for a seventeen-year-old boy, and I’m inviting two Jews, my best friend from college, Dumbledore, three Norse gods, one of whom tried to destroy New York, a glorified Siri, the Hulk, a couple super spies, a few grandpas, a real-life Disney prince, and Sam, who’s actually just a very neat guy. Because my life isn’t ridiculous enough as it is.”

He’s breathless as he stops monologuing, trying not to watch Steve’s reaction, hands paused mid-air from all of his waving around. He heaves for a second before he starts to walk away and stop embarrassing himself and-

“OK.”

Tony stops dead in his tracks and turns around. “OK?”

Steve is staring at him so intensely Tony feels like his heart could float out of his ribcage at any moment. “Alright. I’ll help. And I’ll tell the team to help you organize it too. I’m sure Natasha would be great at party planning.”

Tony pauses but - _you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth_ , a voice sounding like his mother’s chimes in inside his head. “Right! And I was thinking, Clint puts up his own decorations every other year when he has the kids, right? So he could definitely help. And invite the kids, too!”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I’m sure Wanda and Pietro might act all blasé about it but they’d love putting up some Christmas decorations and lights. I know it’s too late for Hanukkah, and they only celebrate it with each other, but still.”

“Oh, it would be Vision’s first Christmas too. And the Asgardians!”

“You know what?” Steve asks. “This could actually be very nice.”

Tony tries not to gulp too obviously while staring at Steve, something light and bubbly and ugh, fluttery, stirring in his chest. Finally he settles on saying: “Yeah, this could.”

***

“Whatever nonsense you want to tell me, I don’t intend to listen to it,” T’Challa informs him.

“One minute,” Tony pleads. “Come on. After all we’ve been through together.”

“Thirty seconds and you stop acting like we are friends,” T’Challa says.

“Forty-five and I stop texting with your sister if you don’t like what I’m going to tell you.”

“You were texting Shuri?” T’Challa exclaims. “What did she tell you?”

Tony lets an eloquent silence carry more than mere words could convey. On the other line of the phone, T’Challa sighs deeply, the sigh of an old, weathered man.

“Start talking.”

***

“Strange-”

“No.”

“OK, have a good day then!”

***

In the end, Natasha takes care of all of the party planning because for a person this blunt and scary to anyone who really knows her she sure can turn up the charm when needs be.

She flirts with a caterer until she agrees to deliver some quickly made dishes they can warm up and any excess food she has from other parties she served for. She convinces Wanda and Pietro to make some of the recipes their grandma used to prepare for Hanukkah after they claim their reluctance as any twenty-something-year old is wont to do, then Vision actually joins in on the fun. It also turns out decorating is way easier when two members of your team have telekinesis, and Vision and Wanda look sickeningly sweet hanging mistletoe everywhere they can.

Loki pretends to be indifferent, but he ends up commandeering everyone into better color coordination, which Tony didn’t see coming but appreciates anyway. (Most of it ends up sparkling green and silver, but well. He isn’t going to complain about a little Slytherin spirit.)

“You tasteless tart toad,” he spits with contempt at Pietro. “You don’t put cyan next to a blood orange when you are trying to get a harmonious ensemble. They _clash._ And this is notwithstanding the little fact that this tree has a color code and that color code is silvery white.”

“I have never been more attracted to you,” Pietro deadpans.

Loki, ever the smooth tongue, hisses as he steps away, almost tripping on his own feet. Tony is absolutely terrified by the mere concept of these two flirting, but he used to get boned by a super soldier his dad used to have a crush on and his other most recent venture into love was a wizard obsessed with precious stones, so ungodly matrimony is all he knows. Plus, he’s pretty sure Pietro has a secret girlfriend he is trying to hide from them.

Natasha is also the one who convinces Valkyrie to help them get mead for the party. Why they need alcohol at a Christmas get-together, Tony doesn’t know, but he is never one to complain, and, well, he remembers the Christmases he and his parents used to have - they would have definitely be improved with a little more ethanol and a little less yelling and general awfulness.

Thor is thrilled about the entire process. Before they know it, he invited half of the Asgardians to their place, as well as Selvig, Darcy, Jane, Eddie Redmayne, for whom Jane apparently left Thor, and all of Peter’s friends with their families. Oh, yeah, and Fury, Hill and Coulson, of course. What could go wrong?

“Why did Thor just jump aboard my ship with the most gigantic fish I have ever seen in his arms to invite me to your house for Christmas?” Pepper says when she calls him the day before Christmas with no prior greeting.

“What kind of fish?” Tony asks.

“How is that the weirdest part of my question?”

“Well, you gotta admit, it is pretty weird. Why did he even wrestle a fish in the first place? Didn’t his flying thingie bring him straight to you? Did he swim there?”

Pepper sighs the way she did before she asked him for a promotion back when she still worked from him. (Usually, after he did something equally ridiculous and heroic.) He always gave them to her back then.

At the most random of times, he misses her so much he is afraid he will break down here and there. He knows she is still here for him, whatever they are. He doesn’t even love her like _that_ anymore, in so far as anyone can not love Pepper. And she is still his favorite person on Earth with Rhodey, the ones he spends most of his time with. It is more like he misses when she was the love of his life, maybe.

“I’m coming, but you will fly me back to my cruise by ten the next morning,” she ends up saying.

“Me personally or just in general?”

She laughs. “As if I’d ever trust you to drive me anywhere the morning after a party. Hilarious, Mr. Stark,” and hangs up on him. He smiles at his phone screen. Yeah, he was being an idiot before. In all the ways that matter, she’ll always be the love of his life.

Of course right then he catches Steve’s eye from across the room and his mouth runs dry.

***

He comes in person to pick Peter and his hot aunt up at their apartment. He settled everything with her before because he’s not suicidal - well - not in this specific scenario at least - and he is pretty sure Peter doesn’t know because when the kid opens the door, he is in jeans and a bright green sweater showing Darth Vader wearing a Christmas hat.

“Mister Stark!” he says, already bouncing on his feet. “What are you doing here? I thought you had that, uh, party thing?”

Tony gives him a long look, sighs, lowers his sunglasses. (Style doesn’t care for snow.) “Yes, I do. And you too. This is why I told you about it.”

“What?”

“Merry Christmas, kid,” he says, clapping him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Now is this what you wanna be wearing to meet Thor?”

Peter stammers for a full minute before he runs back into his bedroom.

“What did you do to my nephew?” May asks, waltzing in the entrance.

“Your lack of faith wounds me,” Tony says. “Happy to see you stunning as always, though. Red looks good on you.”

She skims her hand over the velvety fabric. “A mysterious suitor sent it to me a few days ago. A little stalkerish. I think I’m going to start locking my windows.”

“Oh no, have you started hearing someone coming in and out at night?”

She smiles at him, a dimpled wide grin that reminds him of Peter, and invites him in. After coming here a handful of times in the past few years, he is still not used to the cramped, comfy flat with all the potted plants and goofy family pictures. It is badly arranged, not one bit keeping up with the latest interior design trends, mismatched and cluttered instead of minimalist and stuffy, unlike every place Tony has ever lived in.

Peter comes out of the room pouting in black jeans and a white shirt, looking both very young and very old. Tony has to physically drag him out of the flat and into the Ferrari, which is the first time he has ever had to drag someone into a Ferrari, but anyway, Peter isn’t a huge car guy, so her beauty is lost on him.

“So, Thor is gonna be there uh?”

“Yes,” Tony sighs. “I also need to ask you to please not embarrass me in front of my friends. Remember you’re an Avenger. You’re a professional.”

“On the other hand, I’m not an Avenger,” May informs him cheerfully, “so I took that scrapbook Ben made of your baby pictures to show him.”

 _“May!”_ Peter protests.

“What do you have to be ashamed of? You were such a cute child. The cutest.”

“Mister Stark, tell her she can’t show my baby pictures to Thor.”

“First of, I would never judge your aunt’s parenting method,” Tony says, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “Also, embarrassing teenagers with baby pictures in front of their crushes is a century-old tradition and I would never dare break it.”

 _“I don’t have a crush on Thor!”_ Peter lies.

May pats his knee. “Sure you don’t, honey.”

Peter catches sight of Thor, swoons, and spends the rest of the evening avoiding him. In spite of this, he seems to be having a pretty great time.

“But like,” he says to Riri, crouched over a blueprint she made of her armor with random Christmas decorations, “how did you deal with the stutter in the centrifugal force when reaching half the maximum flow velocity?”

“And how did you keep the secondary motor from overheating past Mach 0.5?” Harvey asks, pointing at a bright red Christmas bulb underneath a trail of gingerbread.

Shuri scoffs at them. “She obviously just swapped the steel for vibranium. True question is, how did you even get that vibranium in the first place?”

Riri stares at her like the main character in a high school romcom. Next to them, Bruce, Jane Foster and Vision are talking about astrophysics and philosophy, every once in a while paying attention to the teenagers’ conversation.

It seems like a quiet Christmas get-together with the Avengers is a better present than anything he could have given Peter. Or Harvey. Or Riri. Tony doesn’t understand why his science club kids are such dorks about the entire superhero thing, especially since they are superheroes themselves, but he cannot say he is complaining about it either.

Then Rhodey calls his name, and he joins a conversation with Sam and him, and before he knows it Natasha is sitting on the floor next to them and Steve is handing him a drink.

“Steve is so patriotic,” Sam announces, “he sings the National Anthem in the shower.”

They laugh as Steve protests. “That was _one time._ And I once saw you talking to a bird!”

“Did he answer?” Natasha asks, grinning as she raises her eyebrows.

“Yes. He told me you’re an asshole,” Sam deadpans. She gasps in mock offense and throws her sufganiyot at him. When he catches it, she uses the distraction to kick him in the shin.

He only winces in pain instead of crying because she broke a bone, though, so it’s all in good fun.

“I’m done hanging out with superheroes,” Sam declares.

“Sorry to break it to you, buddy, but you are a superhero,” Clint says.

“Tell that to my bad hip.”

“That’s not because you’re normal, it’s just because you’re old,” Peter butts in, having snuck into the group at some point. Tony snorts and keeps himself from saying _that’s my boy_ at the last minute.

“Excuse me, I can’t hear you from the way up there,” Sam says, “do you want a stool or something?”

Peter looks at Tony and Natasha like a forlorn puppy. Tony resolutely ignores him, because he is not going to fall for that. Not again.

“Don’t be rude, Sam,” Natasha says and Peter lights up before she adds: “Go fight someone your own size.”

“I thought we were Spider-Bros!”

“Oh _honey.”_

She smiles at him with a naked warmth Tony isn’t used to seeing on Natasha’s face, but then Valkyrie, who has spent most of the night gawking at these weirdly colored alien sisters Quill dropped off earlier, slides next to her and asks her if she might have this dance. If these two become a thing, they will be the most lethal couple in the history of the world - he is a little afraid and a little turned on, to be honest.

“You know what,” Clint says, a weird glint in his eye. “It’s not so bad that you made us throw this party in the end, Stark. Wasn’t a half bad idea.”

“What? I thought this was an Avengers thing,” Peter asks.

Tony tries to discreetly sign f u c k y o u to Clint without the kid seeing, but he just sends him a shit-eating grin, the little jerk.

“No, it was totally last minute,” Deadpool says. “That’s why I got my invite so late.”

“Nobody invited you, Wilson,” Tony and Clint say at the same time.

“And it’s your loss,” he says as he walks away from them in that ridiculous, glowing Christmas sweater of his.

“No, but really, don’t you do that kind of things every year? I thought it was part of the Avengers motto, you know,” Peter says, then, dorky as ever: “Join the Avengers! See the world! Meet lots of interesting aliens, and then beat them up! Invite them to party in your loft in Manhattan that SHIELD pays for!”

“Wow. He really is your kid, Stark,” Rhodey deadpans.

“Being an Avenger is also a lot of responsibilities,” Steve says more seriously. “People rely on you. You need to accept that with that amazing power of yours comes-”

Tony covers his mouth with his left hand. “Shhh. Don’t listen to Captain Boring over here. He played in gym classes instruction videos. Listen to me, the _fun_ dad. With great power comes great opportunities to have cool party tricks to get all the ladies or lads or nonbinary pals.”

“This is true,” Clint confirms. “This is why you were given powers, kid. The only reason.”

Steve rolls his eyes and protests, lips moving against Tony’s palm in a very distracting way.

“Alright, fun dads,” Peter says. “Can I use my powers to stop you from changing the subject?”

“Busted,” Clint says.

“You’re not helping, Clint.”

“When am I ever?”

“Valid point,” Tony says.

He manages to make it last at least one hour before somebody (Thor) thanks Peter for convincing him to throw a Christmas party and the kid whips around to look at him with the widest eyes he has ever seen. Out of the corner of his own eye, he catches Dum-E wearing a  Christmas hat and running around after Natasha with a festive sweater while she ducks all of his attempt to dress her in it. Vision and Wanda are in front of the window watching Vision’s first snow, even if it is just an artificial show Tony and Bruce concocted yesterday night after too much eggnog. Bruce is talking with Harvey with great hand gestures while Thor pets his hair. Clint is doing a handstand in front of Scott Lang and Hope van Dyne to prove who is the cooler dad. Okoye is in a corner judging all of these white people while Shuri socializes with other geniuses her age and T’Challa pretends not to be happy about that. Deadpool is weighing the benefits of crocs versus flip-flops with Peter Quill, who seems fascinated by this new technology. Rocket, Barnes, Valkyrie and Nebula are talking about weapons around the Christmas tree under which suspiciously gun-shaped presents are sitting.

While Tony vehemently denies doing anything for Peter, ever, _what’s your name again, harry was it,_ Steve leans against his side. If he leans back against him or feels happy and warm all over, well, it’s just because of the Christmas spirit.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are to me what a handgun as a christmas present is to natasha romanoff
> 
> [and here is my tumblr!](http://ravenclaw-power-bottom.tumblr.com/) happy holidays everyone


End file.
